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Serendipity and kismet...
I begin with going to Ireland to finish my book and now, thanks to the internet, I am corresponding with a few Dubliners. The connections between my works are also forming like a steadily growing web... banshees led to fairies and Tir Nan n'Og which led to ancient Latin alchemical symbols and Yeats' symbolist stories about Irish mythology and alchemy all discovered in the darkest corners of a musty old library. Then an image search on Google for a mystical piece of stained glass in said library turns up information about one of Yeats' contemporaries, Harry Clarke, and an amazing piece of iconography in glass that is already growing into another idea. All the while, Faleen of the spider crystal and rose wings traipses through my mind in a perlucid green meadow.
My life as a writer seems to be taking on the rambling quality of my dreams which, most likely due to my incessant reading in the YA fantasy genre this year, are populated with demonistic dogs, walls that crumble as I enter the room, and terror filled ocean scapes where I am threatened by tsunami-like waves. I'm juggling too much, working too hard, and writing like a fiend.
I'd "take it down a notch"....
....but only if I could quit work and write full time.
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